


True Colours

by Butterfrogmantis



Category: Les Schtroumpfs | The Smurfs
Genre: M/M, So many random smurf characters, Too many to bother listing since they're only in it for the ball game
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-13
Updated: 2019-09-13
Packaged: 2020-10-17 18:56:13
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,309
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20625917
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Butterfrogmantis/pseuds/Butterfrogmantis
Summary: Vanity Smurf's only desire is to be beautiful; so when an accident at Papa's lab results in facial burns that will take a few weeks to heal, the mirror obsessed Smurf suddenly can't stand the sight of his own reflection. What's worse is that other Smurf's can't seem to stand looking at the sore Vanity either, so he decides to retreat from the village to avoid further humiliation. But comfort can come from the most unexpected places, as can confessions ...





	True Colours

Seven weeks. It would take 7 weeks for Vanity’s perfect face to return to its former glory. Sure, if Vanity had followed the recipe like he was supposed to have done, he probably could have avoided the unfortunate events that followed, but how was a Smurf to know that essence of elder root caused spark seeds to explode? He winced at the memory, gingerly touching his bandages. They felt sticky with the healing ointment Papa had applied, and the scent of the herbs was repugnant compared to his usual lavender cologne. They did at least soothe the intense burning sensation, so Vanity held his tongue about asking for something that smelt a little less offensive. 

“Cheer up Vanity, it could have been a lot worse” Papa reminded him “At least you still have a face to heal!”

“I suppose” the other sighed forlornly “But what if something goes wrong? What if it heals all bumpy and ... scarred?” 

Papa merely chuckled, and patted the anxious’ Smurf’s shoulder reassuringly. 

“You’re not the first Smurf to be burnt by potions Vanity” The elder pointed to a patch on the back of his hand “When I was 120 I accidently poured a vat of cleaning potion over this hand. Grandpa Smurf thought I might even lose it. But look – you can barely tell!”

Vanity marvelled at the clean blue skin, and felt a little relieved. 

“All the same, seven weeks in bandages is rather a long time”

“I wouldn’t recommend you wear them for the whole seven weeks, heavens no! A bit of fresh air will do them a Smurf of good” 

“But then everyone will see” Vanity pouted “Then I’ll have to see, and I’m not sure my mirrors can take that”

“Vanity” The village leader chuckled “If they could stand the sight of you as a Wartmonger, they’ll not have any qualms with your burns I’m sure”

“If you say so ...”

“Now, get some rest my little Smurf, tomorrow I’ll prepare another batch of ointment to speed up the healing. If you’re lucky we could even cut down seven weeks to five and a half”

Vanity tried to work out how much time he was saving, but he knew it was still much too long to wait to get his good looks back. It was an awkward meal time that night, because every Smurf was trying to avoid the elephant in the room as Vanity slid surreptitiously into a seat between Tracker and Farmer. 

“Tonight I have prepared Soup A La Smurfberry!” Greedy proclaimed cheerfully, as he began dishing out large ladlefuls into the Smurf’s bowls. 

“I just hope you didn’t burn it” Passive-Aggressive sniffed, loudly enough so that everyone could hear. Loud enough so Vanity could hear. A stale silence fell across the room, as several of the villagers held their breath. Smurfette gasped, and glared at the speaker. Somewhere down the table, a spoon clanked against a bowl, and at least one Smurf coughed. Hefty and Handy (who were sat either side of the insulter) both gave him a clap round the back of the head for good measure. 

Vanity chose not to comment. With a shaking hand, he picked up his spoon and blew on the soup. Still, the table stared. He swallowed. Stares. It was growing uncomfortable, even for the Smurf that usually enjoyed all the eyes of the world on him.

“Well? Are you going to eat yours or just watch me eat mine?” he eventually snapped; in a tone that would have rivalled Grouchy on even the unhappiest of days.

As if a switch had been flicked, the other villagers began to chatter and dine as though nothing had happened. Vanity sighed in relief, and finished his soup as quickly as he could, in order to escape. He slipped quietly out of the back door and began a lonesome journey back to his own mushroom, leaving the sounds of laughing, chattering Smurf’s behind him. He sighed as he headed up the dirt track, watching as his breath became visible in the cold night air. The cloud of vapour rose a few inches, and then seemed to dissolve into the darkness. Turning, he saw the outlines of Smurfs at the dinner table, with a cosy golden glow still emanating from the windows. Laughter drifted from the mushroom and carried over the otherwise silent village. Vanity felt something slide down his cheek, and he wiped it away furiously, promising himself he wouldn’t be that kind of loser. 

He opened the door of his mushroom cottage and leant against the back of it, trying to regulate his breathing. In the semi-darkness, he could see hundreds of eyes staring back at him, which made him jump - so he quickly switched on the light. It was then he realised that the eyes in the dark were his own, but he didn’t recognise them for the face they were on was not his. Physically, yes, but in all of Vanity’s memories he’d had a handsome, symmetrical face, with a soft, rosy glow to his cheeks that no other Smurf in the village quite had. The face in the thousands of mirrors that stared back was irregular, like a candle that had begun to melt. This was mostly because of the bandages that covered the affected areas, but otherwise let un-burnt patches of blue peek through, like the tiniest patch of blue sky on a cloudy day. But these parts were wrong too. A trembling hand reached up to touch Vanity’s lip, which was swollen, and almost purple at the edge. Even his nose looked bigger than before, and because of the way it wrapped around his right eye, Vanity could see a tiny patch of pinkish tissue if he squinted. This was worse than being a Wartmonger. That, at least, was an entirely new thing. What he was looking at right now was Vanity alright, but a gross, deformed version of the once attractive Smurf. No wonder the others had been so quiet at dinner. If it had been another Smurf, Vanity knew he’d have acted strangely too. But it wasn’t another, it was him, and he had to live like this for another month. Vanity couldn’t handle that; he never wanted to see himself like this again. 

There was a loud smashing sound, and Vanity found himself staring at not one, but thousands of tiny little misshapen Vanity’s in front of him instead. He stared, shocked, trying to comprehend what had just happened. The pain in his hand told him enough of what he’d just done, as he gawked down at where a small trickle of blood ran from his knuckles and onto the dusty floor. Cursing himself for being so impetuous, he tore a section of bandage from his face and wrapped it around his fist, fighting back the angry tears that threatened to spring up. He couldn’t muster the strength to complete his nightly routine for once, so he merely crawled under the covers still as he was, holding his sore hand against his chest. He was still sobbing by the time he finally managed to get to sleep. 

Early morning sunshine streamed through a slit in Vanity’s curtains, and fell upon the broken shards of mirror that were still lying on the floor. They reflected around the room, casting little rainbows that danced across the other objects in the room. One of the rainbow beams fell across Vanity’s uncovered eyelid, making the Smurf wince as he slowly woke up. 

“Whushappenin” He groaned, sliding backwards into an N shape. 

The blanket felt sticky, like petroleum jelly had been rubbed over it, and it smelt awful. This was what made Vanity open his eyes. During the tossing and turning he’d done the night before, most of the bandages had unravelled, and Papa’s healing ointment had been smeared over the duvet. Vanity crinkled his nose, and kicked them away as he sat up. He yawned and stretched, rising to his feet and wriggling his tail as he usually did. He wandered into the adjacent room to fix himself a cup of coffee, humming the lala song as he busied himself with pouring sugar. Whilst he was waiting for the kettle to boil, he caught sight of himself in the window, and his Smurfy heart skipped a beat. Coffee forgotten, he dashed back into his bedroom and fumbled around in his draws for his hand held mirror, holding it up so he could see the un-bandaged face, and what lay underneath. Later that day, Smurf’s swore Gargamel probably could have heard the screaming from his hut. 

“Vanity! Are you alright, dear friend?” 

“We heard ze screaming! Eez it urgent?”

Vanity peered between his kitchen curtains to see Poet and Painter standing in front of his door, looking concerned. Without opening the curtains properly, he undid the latch on his window so the two could hear him.

“O-oh everything’s just fine!”

“Are you shuer?” Painter seemed to ask, glancing at the spot where could see the tip of Vanity’s nose.

“A-absolutely smurfy!” Vanity replied, trying to add his usual sing song tone into his reply.

The two visitors glanced at each other, acknowledging that neither believed the disembodied Smurf voice.

“Will you walk with us to Greedy’s breakfast? I hear he’s making Smurfberry pancakes” Poet announced, trying to lure their friend out from hiding. 

“Oui oui! Every Smurf loves Greedy’s pancakes!” Painter agreed.

“Oh um, yes, pancakes. Truth is I don’t feel all that hungry-”

Vanity was interrupted by his stomach growling loudly at the thought of fresh pancakes. 

“You uh, sound une petite faim, mon amie” 

“I’ll ... be with you shortly ... all of you”

“Vanity, can we come in?” Poet pressed his ear against the door of the house.

“I’d rather you didn’t” 

The Smurf sounded so forlorn when he said this, that the two visitors wanted nothing more than to hug their friend. They weren’t completely clueless, they knew what was probably keeping Vanity indoors. But they were his friends, and to them appearances meant nothing. True, Vanity hadn’t looked ... great at dinner, but he was still the same old Vanity through and through, and Papa Smurf had assured them all that Vanity would be back to normal within a month. 

“Painter? Poet? If you can fetch Papa Smurf for a second, I-I’ll join all of you for breakfast”

“...Oui” Painter turned on his heel, and the two raced away.

Vanity breathed a sigh of relief, and slunk back into the kitchen, wondering how else he was going to hide his face from the village. A paper bag? No, Papa had always said never to put bags over their heads in case they choked. He might be hideous, but Vanity wasn’t about to risk it all over that. He just hoped Papa would be able to re-bandage him so he could hide the shame at breakfast.   
He’d just finished his coffee when the door was knocked again. Vanity peered once more through the curtains and breathed a sigh of relief to see Papa Smurf standing outside. He slid off the counter and opened the door just a crack and pulled him inside before the elder Smurf could get a word in edgeways. 

“Vanity! Whatever is wrong my little Smurf? Painter and Poet said you refused to come to breakfast until I saw you, and every Smurf loves pancakes!”

“It’s this!” Vanity gasped, pointing at the shiny patches that covered his face.

“Oh my!” Papa gasped, then he clapped his hands “They look better already!”

“Better?!” Vanity wheezed, not daring to imagine how he could have looked any worse. 

“Yes, I think that ointment I prepared is working rather well if I do say so myself”

“But I can’t show up to breakfast looking like this” Vanity wailed. “They’ll mock me again”

“Now now my little Smurf, you can’t hide forever”

“Just for today?” Vanity begged hopefully. “I promise I’ll still be a useful Smurf if I can only cover this monstrosity”

“Not every Smurf is so bothered by looks you know. Sometimes, Smurfs value what’s inside. It’s what’s inside that counts” Papa sighed, bringing out a fresh roll of bandages from his pocket. Vanity took them gleefully, measuring lengths. 

“But what’s the point of having a beautiful inside if the Smurfs will only see the outside?” Vanity mused aloud, finally wrapping the last of the bandages around his burns. “There, all ready for breakfast” He flung open the door, took a deep breath, and skipped up the path to the breakfast room, happily singing to himself.

Papa Smurf sighed, and picked up the excess bandages from the floor and placed them in his pocket. A glimmering in the corner of his eye got his attention, and he pushed open the door of Vanity’s bedroom to see the shattered mirror. He gasped, eyes darting around the room before they fell back on the broken glass with a sorrowful look. He closed the door gently, and patted the wood slightly as if he were comforting Vanity himself.

“One day my little Smurf, I hope someone teaches you the true meaning of inner beauty”

With a heavy sigh, the elder closed the door to Vanity’s house and headed up to join the others.   
Later that afternoon, the village gathered in the large field for a kick about. Most of them had been busy that day, and there was much to do later on, but for now they felt as though they deserved a break. Hefty had decided to call two teams, so he led one with Gutsy leading the other. Vanity sat at the back of the crowds, glad (for the first time in forever) that the attention was focused away from him. The crowd roared as Hefty got a shot past Greedy, and laughed when Jokey and Harmony collided mid pitch. Even Vanity was having so much fun that he forgot all about his situation for a moment. He was just cheering for a goal when someone tapped him on the shoulder. He looked up to see Passive-Aggressive standing above him, looking embarrassed, but also shady – like he was worried something was suddenly going to spring out at him. 

“Hey uh ... sorry. For what I said last night” He apologised fairly loudly, his eyes darted left to right, as if checking for someone. 

“Oh um ... bygones will be bygones” Vanity stammered; confused. Passive-Aggressive seemed relieved and quickly ducked back into the crowds as if they could protect him. Vanity shook his head, deciding to let the strange behaviour go, and turned his attention back to the game. 

Lazy Smurf was red carded for falling asleep on the ball, and a replacement Smurf was called out. Several rounds later, it seemed like almost every Smurf in the village had had a turn on the pitch. Well, nearly every Smurf.

“Oh Vanity – why don’t you join us?” Smurfette called to her best friend, eager for him to join in.

“I uh, think I’d better sit this one out!” 

“Come on laddie, it’s yer turn!”

“Pap Smurf says every Smurf should get at least 60 minutes of physical activity a day!”

“It’ll be fun!”

“Oui, ‘ave a go Monsieur Vanity!”

Vanity bit his lip, unsure. But a hundred shining eyes were staring at him eagerly, so he decided he might as well not ruin the good mood of his friends. 

“Well ... oh alright, one quick round might take my mind off things”

The rest of the Smurfs cheered as he took his place on Gutsy’s team. Harmony blew his whistle, and the game began. Gutsy passed to Poet, who passed to Actor, who fired it across the pitch. The ball was intercepted by Hefty, who dribbled it around Timber, and passed to Wooly. Wooly passed to Tailor, and Vanity saw an opening. He raced forwards, trying to get the ball away from Tailor before the other team scored. Just as he was closing in, Clumsy skidded out from behind two members of the opposing team, seeming to also be aiming for the ball. But in his usually klutziness, he’d tripped, and was heading straight for Vanity’s side instead. Vanity only had time to hear ‘look out!’ before he collided with the ground. The Smurf rolled across the pitch and came to a spot directly under the sun, which temporarily blinded him. Dark shadows began to surround him from above, but their voices were muffled, and their figures dizzy. Through his haze, Vanity could hear muttering, gasping, and panicked tones. He looked to his left. Sitting a few feet away were his bandages. His face was visible, and the other smurfs were talking about his burns. 

Vanity got to his feet, and ran. He could hear a few of his friends shouting, and what sounded like Smurfette telling him to come back. But Vanity wouldn’t go back. Not now they’d seen what happened. Not now they knew what horrors lay under the bandages that had been protecting his dignity. He sobbed again, and didn’t try to stop it. The tears blurred his eyesight but still he ran, into the thick undergrowth. 

Eventually, Vanity stopped in a small grove and threw himself onto a log branch. He didn’t have as much stamina as other Smurfs, so he wasn’t that far away - but it didn’t matter. He was away from the village. No noise but that of a songbird somewhere high above him. The Smurf crawled to a small pool of water to wash his muddy face. His reflection gazes back at him, pathetically. The flower on his hat was torn in several places. Most obviously, the pink burns taunted him, and he swiped a hand through his reflection, not wanting to see those marks ever again. He turned his back on the pool, and wept some more. It wasn’t fair. It just wasn’t fair. Why did this have to happen to him? Why couldn’t – Vanity’s ears pricked up at the sound of a snapping tree branch, and his tears stopped abruptly. 

“Is someone there? S-show yourself!” He glanced around and picked up a small branch that was lying nearby “I-I’m armed”

“That’s a stick” A familiar voice came from the nearby bushes, and a surly Smurf emerged from behind a growth of ferns. Vanity sighed with relief; it was only Grouchy, the village grump. He wouldn’t hurt him, so he dropped the weapon. Uh, branch. Then Vanity also frowned. 

“Grouchy were you ... spying on me?”

“I hate spying” Grouchy scowled, but then his expression became uncharacteristically soft. “But I hate sad friends more”

Vanity sighed and wiped the traces of tears from his cheeks.

“Don’t tell me you hate ugly Smurfs”

A thick line appeared on Grouchy’s forehead.

“What ugly Smurf?”

Vanity blinked in surprise, timidly rising to his feet, suddenly feeling self conscious about sitting on the floor. He returned to the log and sat down on it, gazing forlornly at the forest floor.

“Why, me, of course”

Grouchy sat adjacent to his friend, his lip twisted as though he were thinking long and hard. He looked down at his lap, and held something in his hand towards the other Smurf. Vanity looked at it, a little surprised. It was a little pink flower, the perfect replacement for his hat. 

Without exchanging a word, Grouchy removed the tattered flower from his friend’s cap, and pinned the new one into place. Then he sat back, and inhaled. 

“You’re not ugly”

“Oh yes I am, positively grotesque!”

“Burns don’t make you ugly” 

“Then what does?” Vanity pouted, forcing himself not to tear up any more. He’d shed enough tears for now. 

Grouchy exhaled hard through his nose. He was grouchy, not ‘inspirational speaker Smurf’ But despite all his gruffness, Grouchy was still a gold hearted Smurf, and he was very used to Vanity’s temperament. He’d been even more accustomed to it ever since his second journey to the Winslow’s. 

“Well uh, you see” Grouchy thought about lessons Papa had tried to give them in the past, and then an idea struck him. “It’s your attitude to your appearance that counts”

“My ... attitude?” Vanity rolled the word around on the end of his tongue like it was a particularly juicy Smurfberry. 

“Well ... what about me?”

“Hm?” 

“Well unlike you, I hate worrying about my appearance. So, am I an ugly Smurf?”

Vanity blinked. It was a weird question. He’d never really considered the attractiveness of other smurfs before. Oh sure, Smurfette was pretty enough in a feminine way, and most smurfs admired Hefty and Handy for their muscles, but Vanity was always too wrapped up in his own looks to consider the others. And if he had been asked, Grouchy certainly wouldn’t have made it to the top of his list. He was ... Grouchy wasn’t he? His favourite accessory was a scowl - that was hardly beautiful. Never the less, Vanity looked. 

Grouchy was on the stocky side for a Smurf, not muscular but certainly sturdy. It would probably take quite a force to knock him over. Overall, there was a certain ruggedness to him; he was unapologetically coarse. His light blue complexion was a lot more even than most Smurfs, due to hiding away indoors all day. Attractive? By Smurf standards; not so much. The most attractive Smurfs (like himself) were considered so for slender, lithe bodies. Attractive Smurfs with muscle were still slim overall. Grouchy was built like a boulder. But Vanity knew he wasn’t as hard as stone. Grouchy had soft spots. He loved Baby Smurf, and Vanity had seen the way he secretly sniffed the flowers in the gardens. The way he’d given Vanity a new flower for his hat. He wasn’t just a glowering grump. Vanity realised, just then - that he was beautiful. Not the shallow, surface beauty that Vanity was obsessed with, but raw honesty at its core is what made Grouchy beautiful. 

“Are you still there?” The rough voice jolted Vanity back to his senses. He blinked; once, twice, and then his ears fell to the sides of his head as a dreamy look settled on his face. 

“I’m fine, really”

“And have you thought about it?”

“O-oh I-”

“Am I an ugly Smurf?”

Vanity’s cheeks flushed as he remembered what he’d just been thinking about. 

“N-no”

Grouchy paused, waiting for any further explanation. Vanity sighed, and stared down at his reflection. 

“It’s not easy being ugly when your main goal is to be beautiful – that’s all I’m good for, I need my looks to be, well, Vanity”

“That’s a trait, not a character”

“Whatever do you mean?”

Grouchy pinched the bridge of his nose, as if he clearly hated having to be so corny. That was Papa Smurf’s job, not his. 

“You’re looks are a part of you but they don’t define you. You’re measured by what you do, such as volunteering to help Papa Smurf with his potion. It went a little wrong – so what? He’s already confirmed it will heal. And the other Smurfs haven’t been neglecting you for the way you look – you were missed at breakfast, that’s why Painter and Poet came over. And everyone wanted you in the Smurfball game remember? Sure, Passive-Aggressive was a little rude last night, but I chewed him out about that and said if he did it again he could have a meeting with my fist”

Vanity blinked, remembering how Passive-Aggressive had seemed to be watching his back when he apologised that morning. Was Grouchy responsible for that? Because if so, Vanity was grateful. 

“So ... you don’t think I’m ... repulsive after all?”

Grouchy’s frown was cast towards the ground, and he muttered something under his breath which Vanity asked him to repeat. He inhaled, and – closing his eyes as if it were taking a lot of effort – repeated.

“You’ve always been handsome” 

Vanity giggled, and threw his arms around his friend, embracing him appreciatively. 

“I hate hugs!” Grouchy groaned, but after a moment, he returned it, a slight flush on his cheeks “But I don’t hate Vanity~” 

A few hours later (Once Vanity had finally fully calmed down) they returned to the village. Crowds of Smurfs swarmed from their mushrooms to greet Vanity and apologise for the Smurfball incident. 

“We were no starin’ at ye laddie!” Gutsy called above the crowed.

“You were so” Brainy muttered, only to receive a playful elbow from the Scottish Smurf. 

Vanity giggled and waved down his friends. He was holding onto Grouchy’s arm whilst the other Smurf tried to look serious.

“I’m fine my friends” Vanity smiled “Just a little hungry”

Suddenly, the crowds parted as Papa Smurf came down the pathway, frowning. Vanity gulped (thinking he was in for a lecture) but as soon as he saw what was actually going on, Papa smiled, and opened his arms to give Vanity a warm hug. 

“Welcome home my little Smurf” He whispered. 

“It’s good to be home Papa – and I’ve learnt that I shouldn’t need to wear the bandages all the time. I know these burns will heal soon enough. Besides, the shade of pink isn’t so bad you know – it really compliments my rosy cheeks”

“Very good Vanity” Papa chuckled “Now how about some pie for dinner?” 

Before long, the Smurfs were dining happily as though nothing had happened at all, and Vanity forgot about the state of his face. He was surrounded by his friends, and that, for the time being, was a more beautiful thing than his face could ever be. He was safe. He was loved. And most importantly – he was the same Vanity inside. Everything was back to normal.

Under the table, Vanity squeezed Grouchy’s hand gratefully. He half expected the cantankerous Smurf to pull away, but after a brief hesitation, Grouchy squeezed his back. Vanity smiled to himself. Well, perhaps not everything was normal. Some things were now even better.


End file.
